


Perfect Peace

by helsinkibaby



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Age Difference, Community: 1-million-words, F/M, Fluff, Het, Rare Pair, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-09-23 15:06:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9662756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helsinkibaby/pseuds/helsinkibaby
Summary: Joe's not fond of lightning storms.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For the weekend challenge - 3 random things. 
> 
> Mine were : lightning, a hairbrush, a memory

Though he would never admit it to anyone, Joe's not fond of lightning storms. It's a relatively new occurrence, some four years old now, but he would have no trouble pinpointing the exact date and time if he was asked. 

It happened somewhere between standing in the middle of a farm, watching a plane get blasted out of the sky and lifting his cell phone to his ear and hearing Singh tell him that there had been a lightning strike at Barry's lab and that he was on his way to Central City Hospital. The drive there has to be the longest Joe can ever remember making, and that was with no speed limits, blue lights flashing and a City-wide alert of his car licence plate so that no-one would stop him. The hospital itself had been like something out of a war zone, overflowing with people hurt during the particle accelerator explosion and, in the middle of it all, Iris standing, weeping - Singh had called her too, had personally left the precinct in the middle of all the madness and brought her to the hospital, stayed with her until Joe got there. Joe had thanked him but Singh had waved him off. "It's what old friends do," he'd told him before ordering him to take as much time as he needed and heading off to put out some fires, both literal and metaphorical. 

That had been the first night in a series of long, long nights at Barry's bedside, not knowing if he'd wake up, not knowing if he'd ever be the same, so Joe thinks he can be forgiven for having some unpleasant associations. 

"It's really coming down out there." 

A quiet voice sounds behind him, accompanied by the soft click of the bedroom door closing and, despite his train of thought of moments earlier, he manages a smile as he turns to look at one of the few bright spots that had come out of that night. Caitlin smiles too as she approaches him, stands beside him and slips her arms around his waist. She's cold, her hair slightly damp where her head rests against his shoulder and he lifts one eyebrow even as he kisses the top of her head. 

"I didn't think you'd be home this early," he observes and from this angle he can just about see her purse her lips. 

"I got sick of looking at data that didn't make sense." He can hear the annoyance and frustration clearly in her tone and he does his best to hide his smile. He finds it endearing, that streak of stubborn perfectionism that she just can't deny. "When we started getting weather alerts, I decided to come home." She tilts her head up to meet his gaze and her lips twitch. "A cot in STAR Labs just doesn't hold the same appeal." 

Joe chuckles at that, wraps his own arms around her shoulders and kisses the top of her head. "Glad to hear it," he mutters as he pulls back and brings his lips to hers. 

They stay like that for a little while before Caitlin pulls back, pecks his lips one last time. "Let me slip into something more comfortable," she quips and he knows better than to argue with that. 

Just like she knows better than to argue with him when, as she stands in front of the mirror preparing to brush the damp and tangles out of her hair, he takes the brush from her. "Allow me." His voice, even to his own ears, is lower than usual and he doesn't miss the sudden shiver that wracks her body, or the gooseflesh that accompanies it. He works the brush slowly and methodically over her hair, mindful of pulling too hard on the tangles and if he's keeping an eye out for any strands of white working their way through, he thinks she'll forgive him. They haven't always had it easy the last few years - the change in their relationship status too everyone, including themselves, by surprise, and not everyone had been instantly happy about it - but watching her fight against becoming Killer Frost had been a nightmare he wouldn't wish on anyone. That train of thought is happily derailed when Caitlin makes a humming sound low in the back of her throat and when he looks at her face in the mirror, he can see that her eyes are closed, her face a picture of perfect peace. It's as far from her alter ego as it is possible to get and he closes the door on that particular memory, locks it firmly behind him. 

For now, as the lightning flashes outside and the rain beats down on the window, the only things he wants to concern himself with are the little flashes of lightning that zip along his skin as he touches her, the beat of his heart and hers as he holds her. 

For now, he concentrates on them, and lets the rest of the world, memories and all, fade away.


End file.
